Chapter Twenty-Five: Fiddlecord

"The ruin was not this big on the outside!" Harkolth complained. Jasmine would've agreed with his statement if she could think of anything other than walking. She was blacking out, now and then. She even almost tripped and fell head first on the floor. She was absolutely exhausted and the strain on her body did not go unnoticed. Her moving now would have dire consequences later on, but she didn't have a choice in the matter.

Harkolth kept close to the shadows of the walls and since Jasmine followed his footsteps she did the same. The duo tried their hardest to go unnoticed by the inhabitants of this place.

Harkolth spotted an entrance to a room, not too far away from them and decided to take a moment to rest. Even if he was occupied, he still noticed Jasmine's condition. She was drenched in sweat that froze around her body, covering her in thin layers of ice that would melt and freeze over again. Warm and cold were having an internal war in her body fighting for dominance and it was quickly sapping away the already nonexistent energy Jasmine had left.

The only thing separating them from the room was a staircase made of stone. The problem with that was simple, when they walk up those stairs they'll be visible to hundreds of different floors, with thousands of skeletons keeping watch.

But Harkolth took the risk and began ascending the stairs, which were dimly lit up by torches with blue flames.

Jasmine exerted almost all her strength with each step she took. In the middle of ascending she collapsed. The little sound made from her falling attracted a nearby skeleton that Harkolth had failed to see, due to it being on a different floor.

When the skeleton came into sight, Harkolth whispered. "Oh, sh!t, a skeleton!" Jasmine hearing those words, desperately fought against her urge to sleep and searched for her staff, which she had dropped when she fell.

"Don't attack it, I got a better solution!" Jasmine said.

Her frail hands touched the icecold steps of stone, desperately searching for her staff. When she finally managed to get her hands on the staff, the skeleton had already reached the stairs and looked down on Harkolth and Jasmine menacingly.

Jasmine didn't hesitate to use the last of her energy to cast "Fiddlecord" and fall unconscious. Her intentions were clear as day and the second the skeleton was hit by the wicked spell it walked towards her and picked her up. Then it turned to Harkolth and waited for him to move.

Harkolth was locked in place and observed the skeleton in horror. 'How the hell did she learn such evil magic?' he thought and finally moved. While walking up the stairs he constantly turned to the skeleton. It was carrying Jasmine in a princess carry, with its sword carefully placed on top of her, so it wouldn't cause her any harm.

After finally reaching the next floor, Harkolth rushed to the open room and the inside was empty. He sighed in relief and waited for the skeleton to arrive. Harkolth leaned the sleeping Asiana against the wall while waiting and after some seconds it entered the room.

The skeleton walked over to Asiana and put down Jasmine next to her. Then it walked to the entrance, grabbed its sword and stood guard. Like many other skeletons did. This had been its original room to protect and therefore they won't have to deal with suspicion from other skeletons.

Some minutes went by before Jasmine regained her consciousness. Her whole body was screaming in pain and she almost blacked out from being awake, but she forced herself to stay awake.

The first thing Jasmine did was to check Asiana, who was still out cold. Jasmine sighed and started to cultivate mana, to replenish what she's lost.

"Are you still capable of moving, or do I have to take extra caution?" Harkolth asked Jasmine.

"I can use magic, but moving is out of the question. If I move more than I already have, I might seriously become a cripple!" she told Harkolth, who nodded.

"Fiddlecord, how many can you use it on?"

"Eight, if human without magic. These skeletons, about sixteen." she answered.

Some more minutes went by and Jasmine was quickly recovering her lost mana. As for Asiana, she finally showed signs of waking up.

Some more time went by and she finally opened her eyes.

"Good to see you wako up, lazy girl!" Jasmine berated.

"I'm in so much pain." she complained as she moved around.

"Jasmine, how long do you think it'll be until you can move again." Harkolth asked, seeing that Asiana woke up.

"At least twelve hours, if I don't want to hurt myself again. But I could just use Fiddlecord on some skeletons and have them carry me, while you walk in their ranks. That way we can move quietly and discreetly.

"Okay, then let's change the question, how long will it take for you to gather enough mana to do that?"

"About an hour, but we should at least wait for four hours, by then I will have recovered all my mana and can be useful in other ways too. But I don't understand the urgency. We have nowhere to go right now anyways, why risk it?" Jasmine said.

(Meanwhile)

Lenart had entered the forest again. This time he was exercising. He was shirtless, showing off his muscles to the wildlife in the forest. He swung his spear forward, over and over again. Each strike created a gust and a bang that resounded through the forest.

Sparks of electricity floated around his body and followed his spear each time he attacked.

After returning from the forest, Lenart was drenched in sweat. He had trained for hours, but he wasn't done yet. He returned to the lodge, where all the other original twenty trained. Weights had already been prepared for him and he started lifting them without resting.

Only by midnight did he rest for a bit, only to enter the library and read more on magic. This time it was basic mana circulation. Even if he didn't want to be a mage, he wanted to be a warrior, who utilized mana when fighting.

As the sun rose he repeated the same thing again. At the level he had reached he only had to sleep once a week and still stay awake. It had been over a week since the fight with the Orc. No signs indicated the Orc's hostility towards the village, but it didn't make Lenart any less devoted to training.

As for Jantyr, he was constantly dwelling on his worshiper Jasmine. She had entered a dangerous ruin that stopped him from even affecting her. He couldn't bless her, or even talk to her. All he could do was watch as she was fighting for her life in that hell. Through his powers of a deity, he could sense many beings in there. Those things would make a tier one orc look like a joke.

Jantyr was very concerned for his first worshiper. She was the first to worship him as the new entity he was. Jantyr, the weather deity.

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